


Brendon's Birthday

by emeraldcitydowntowngirl



Series: Eccentric Times At Barrington High [6]
Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Birthday Fluff, Eccentric Times at Barrington High, M/M, cause i was Determined to write something 4 his bday, idk something short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 03:17:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10608180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldcitydowntowngirl/pseuds/emeraldcitydowntowngirl
Summary: Brendon's not sure what's more surprising- the fact that Ryan remembered his birthday, the fact that Ryan made breakfast, or the fact that he's not playing Coldplay?(a little ficlet for brendon's birthday ft. your (or my?) favorite verse- the eccentric verse)





	

**Author's Note:**

> can i win an award for most creative title

( _The camera pans Ryan (and Brendon’s) dining room- the table is small, just enough for 4 people, but it’s packed with food. There are some strawberries in a bowl, and a separate bowl with melted chocolate. There are some fresh croissants from a bakery on the table, and there’s even some cupcakes on the table that look homemade- the icing drips from the the side of the cupcake and onto the wooden table. From the pass-through window, Ryan is visible, and he’s humming the new Coldplay song ‘Something Just Like This’ under his breath as he whisks some pancake batter in a bowl)_

RYAN: So, today is Brendon’s birthday. And… well, his birthday party _did_ send me to the hospital… but whatever, the point is that I wanted to do something… nice for him? Don’t- _don’t_ give me that look. I will throw everything in the garbage! ( _There’s a pause. And then Ryan raises his eyebrow as he dumps all of the batter in the garbage)_ What, bitch? You thought I wasn’t gonna do it?

\---

 _(Dottie runs into the Ryan (and Brendon’s) bedroom, and she jumps onto the bed, where Brendon is lying, fast asleep. He’s wearing a Coldplay tour shirt, one that inevitably belongs to Ryan, and he wakes up after Dottie licks over his face enough times_ )

“Mmm, Ryan, what- oh! Dottie!” He says, jolting awake when he realizes that Dottie’s the source of the weight on his torso. His hair sticks up in all directions as he sits up, and he wraps his arms around Dottie, laughing as she continues to lick at his face. “Ew, Dottie! I have morning breath! Let me-”

He looks up, he’s about to jump into the shower and brush his teeth, but then he sees the cameramen, and he gives them an odd look. “What are you-“ He suddenly pauses, and he takes a deep breath in through his nose. “You guys made breakfast? It smells gooooooood. Where’s Ryan?”

There’s a pause, like the cameramen are debating on telling the truth. Then, a voice, (it’s Josh- it’s easy to tell, Josh doesn’t have that weird kind of drawl that Tyler has), says from behind the camera, “He, uh, went out to help Patrick pick out some flowers for the wedding.”

Brendon narrows his eyes a little. “Ryan? Flowers? Patrick’s a ~~fuckin~~ ’ idiot, Ryan wouldn’t know a good bouquet if it hit him in the face.”

It’s silent again, although it looks like the cameramen have shrugged, so Brendon takes that as his cue to get up and take a shower. He gets up out of bed, he’s wearing these shorts that say ‘Are You Nasty’ across the ass, and he flips the cameramen off with a grin.

\---

( _About 20 minutes later- Brendon steps out of the bathroom, with a towel wrapped around his head. He’s wearing some sweatpants and a tank top, and he starts heading back to the bedroom, until he hears a familiar Britney Spears tune. ‘Give me a siiiiiiign, hit me, baby, one more time’. He immediately whips back around, and his eyes widen)_

“Britney? In my house?” He asks, mostly to himself. He stands for a moment, just trying to process everything, the breakfast and the music, and then he suddenly steps back and gives the cameramen a sympathetic smile.

“Um, guys,” Brendon says, bringing a hand to his heart, “I’m flattered. Really. I’m actually _extremely_ flattered. Like… _extremely_. But, I’m not interested in a threesome, I’m in a very committed-“

“Oh my God, no, just- go downstairs!” The other cameraman exclaims, and Brendon gives them a skeptical look, but, nevertheless, he makes his way to the kitchen. Dottie trails him, trotting along as Brendon sings under his breath, “ _Show me, how you want it to be, tell me_ \- oh, ~~shit~~!”

Brendon walks into Ryan flipping a pancake onto a plate. He’s wearing an apron, ‘Kiss the Chef’, and he’s dancing to Britney Spears.

Ryan.

Brendon’s Ryan.

Brendon's George Ryan Ross the Third.

Dancing to Britney Spears.

Not Coldplay.

_Britney Spears._

“Am I dreaming right now?” Brendon asks, staring wide-eyed as Ryan hands Brendon a plate with 3 stacked pancakes on it. There’s a little bit of butter on the top, and the pancakes look a little burnt, but they look _edible_.

“H-happy birthday!” Ryan says, giving Brendon a weak smile upon seeing Brendon’s beyond shocked expression. “I made pancakes? And I made some cupcakes and bought from fruit and some croissants from the place you like.”

“Where is my boyfriend and what have you done with him?” Brendon asks, still shocked. He takes the plate from Ryan, though, and he looks around the place, almost like he expects Ryan to be tied up in a corner. But he instead catches the table instead- the fruits and the cupcakes and the champagne in a bowl of ice, and the flowers.

The _flowers_. A gorgeous bouquet of roses.

“I’m trying to be nice!” Ryan sputters out, “Is that so hard to believe?!”

( _FLASHBACK: Ryan dumping all (well, not all, since there are pancakes on the plate) of the batter in the garbage just to be petty_ )

“The… the… t-the…” Brendon tries to say, as he looks around the place, the flowers, all of the food, Brendon’s favorite kind of classy liquor, the fact that Ryan’s playing Brendon’s favorite kind of music instead of his own.

“The?” Ryan asks, and Brendon shakes his head, as tears (tears!) begin to fill his eyes. “Sorry! Sorry, sorry, I’m just- Ryan! You did all of this for me?!”

“Yeah,” Ryan says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “it’s your birthday, Bren. You threw me a surprise party, it’s quite literally the least I could do.”

“I know, but-“ he shakes his head again, and he sets the pancakes on granite counters right before he kisses Ryan sweetly, grinning as he presses their foreheads together. “I love you. Thank you.”

“Yeah, I. You know.” Ryan coughs out when Brendon takes his hand with his free one (he’s holding his plate of pancakes with the other) and pulls him towards the dining room table. There’s already a plate for Ryan there, and they sit side-by-side instead of across from each other, just to be closer.

And Brendon’s about to dig into his food, before he catches a card in the midst of the flowers. “A card?” Brendon asks, and Ryan puts his head in his hands. “Please, please, _please_ don’t read it in front of the-“

“DEAR BRENDON,” Brendon begins to read, completely ignoring Ryan. Ryan looks into the camera, and pretends to shoot himself. And then he opens the bottle of champagne, the top comes off with a ‘pop!’ and Brendon waits till Ryan’s done being dramatic, and he drinks straight from the bottle as Brendon continues to read.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY. AS YOU PROBABLY KNOW, I’M NOT GOOD AT ROMANTIC STUFF. OR ANYTHING, REALLY.” Brendon pauses. “Not true.”

“BUT I HOPE YOU KNOW THAT I LOVE YOU MORE THAN THE MOON LOVES THE SUN.” He says, still loudly, but then he quiets down the further he keeps reading, “I love you more than I love Chris Martin, and that’s something I don’t say lightly. I love you more than Pete loves eyeliner, more than Patrick loves Advil, more than Joe loved weed, more than Vicky loves Yo-Yo Ma, more than William Beckett and Gabe loved breaking the age of consent law, more than Travie loves painting, more than the Weeknd loves pussy, and finally… _and finally_ , I love you more than I’ve loved anyone or anything else in the world. As God once sang, “In your tears and in your blood, in your fire and in your flood, I hear you laugh, I heard you sing. I wouldn’t change a single thing.” I love you. Love, Ryan.”

Brendon sets the card down, Ryan’s still chugging down the contents of the bottle, and Brendon laughs, wild and crazy, “You’re so ~~fucking~~ cheesey! Ryan!”

He reaches over to kiss Ryan, but Ryan pushes him away, “No, don’t touch me, Brendon, I told you not to read it out loud!”

But Brendon pulls Ryan close anyways, Ryan lets up with a sigh, and _he’s_ the one to initiate the kiss. It’s a lot more passionate than the simple and short one, and when they pull away to breathe, Brendon flashes a look to the camera and he says, “Unless you want to film Ryan pouring chocolate and strawberries all over me and licking it off, I suggest you leave, _now_.”

And so, the cameras shut off.

**Author's Note:**

> it would be...... biphobic of me not to write something for my favorite bi icon (bicon) brendon urie's birthday!!! so... happy birthday to my bubbie <3 brendon is younger in this fic (in the verse its his 26th bday) but irl... i cant believe he's 30? i joined the panic fandom in 2013 (thanksgiving to be exact lmao "this is gospel" was on a joey graceffa playlist) and he was 26 then so its been a Journey. 
> 
> i know i said that the peterick wedding was gonna be next but i woke up this morning and eccentric!ryden was on my mind first thing. so... NOW the peterick is gonna be next! after APs though- lets say before june? yes. im setting a deadline for myself. BEFORE JUNE!
> 
> btw i love that coldplay song so much.. the one w the chainsmokers... i feel like everyone hates the chainsmokers but they gave us this song and "closer" so... they seem p cool


End file.
